


When in Rome

by Romagirl



Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician), Hozier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Mature for Sweet Sexy Times, travel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romagirl/pseuds/Romagirl
Summary: Hozier and his Girlfriend travel to Italy. Lots of sweet fun times. Sexy times. Lots of food.
Relationships: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	1. The Barista

**Author's Note:**

> The Barista comes from my other fanfic, Long Distance. It sparked the idea to write an Italian trip for our couple. Hopefully, it gives a little escape and pleasure during these difficult times.
> 
> Just a reminder, I do not know Hozier. I am just a fan.
> 
> Be well.

To say you had coffee habit would be an understatement. Forget habit, it was a full-blown love affair. Every morning you had a latte. After lunch, you would have a quick shot of espresso and sometimes a brewed coffee in the afternoon. Unfortunately, between your expensive New York City existence combined with student loan debt, you had to cut back. You pulled out your Mom’s old espresso pot. It was a million years old and worked on top of the stove. You heated milk in the microwave and had café au lait instead. You budgeted for the espresso shot at work. It was double-shot to be exact and you got it across the street from where you worked. You liked the ritual of it, it reminded you of your times in Italy visiting family. Also, it was a small independent shop that you liked supporting. You gave up your brewed coffee in the afternoon because you never got it right on your own.

Andrew drank coffee every day, but tea was his passion. You were pretty sure that Ireland would revoke his citizenship if he didn’t love it. He kept one of the plug-in kettles on your counter and a drawer filled with several different teas. You had been living together, in your apartment, for two months now. Things had settled and the two of you had developed a routine, it was wonderful. He was very flexible and easy. Your tiny apartment was not much compared to his beautiful home back in Ireland, but he didn’t seem to mind the cramped living quarters. He was happy to be with you and was enjoying everything the city had to offer.

You came home from work one night to find Andrew in the kitchen. He was clearing what little counter space you had.

“Hi.”

He was a little startled, “Oh, hey!” He gave you a big kiss.

“What is happening in here?” It looked like a tornado blew through the kitchen.

“Ehm...I got you something.” He showed you a box.

“An espresso machine?”

“Do you like it? Is it ok?” He looked nervous.

It was a top of the line espresso machine with bean grinder and milk frother. You had looked at one in Williams-Sonoma, it cost more than your first car.

“Oh wow. It’s amazing. Thank you.” You hugged him tight. “You are so thoughtful.”

“Well, I noticed you were making espresso at home. I thought you could use a better machine.”

This was the type of gift you loved. Thoughtful and useful. “It’s perfect. Thank you. Can we try it out?”

“Yeah. Ehm…let me get it set up.”

“I’ll go change while you work your magic.” You went into the bedroom and took off your work clothes. It felt so good to slip into your yoga pants and Hozier t-shirt. You went into the bathroom, put your hair up and washed up a little to get the city off of you. As you hung the towel on the hook, you looked around the little bathroom. Andrew’s toothbrush was in the holder, his contact lens case and accessories were on the shelf. The two of you were sharing hair ties and he was definitely stealing your leave-in conditioner and curl cream (you had curly hair too.) It made you so happy to see his things around and to see him fit right into your space.

Back in the kitchen, Ella was singing and Andrew was pulling the first espresso shot.

“How’s it going?”

“Ehm… good. I watched a YouTube video from the manufacturer. It was very informative.” He had a dishcloth slung over his shoulder and his brows were furrowed in concentration. Next, he frothed the milk. You sat on the folding stool and waited for your drink.

“Sir. I am afraid I don’t have any money with me.” You smiled at him.

His lips curled up. “Really? That’s a shame because there are no free drinks here.”

“Oh, but I really need the caffeine!! Is there any other way I can pay you?”

“I am scandalized! Miss, I have a girlfriend!”

“Does she appreciate your…skills?” You were close enough that you were able to rub your foot on the inside of his leg.

“Oh…she certainly does.” His cheeks were aflame. He finished pouring the latte and handed it to you. “Madame.”

It looked delicious. You took a sip and it was the best coffee you’ve had since Rome. “Babe, this is fantastic!!!” You handed the cup for him to try.

“Wow. Not bad for my first time.”

“Well, if the music career doesn’t pan out, you could always work at Starbucks.”

“Totally. I would kill in tips.” He smiled at you. “Or I could be a man of leisure and let my sexy girlfriend support me.” His eyebrows did a little dance.

You were laughing now. “Oh, that would be a big mistake. She works in mental healthcare. Not a lot of money.”

“Fair point. Better practice my latte-making skills.”

“Babe, this really is delicious. Just as good as my favorite place in Rome.”

Andrew leaned against the counter. He was making a cup of tea now. The kettle was making a whooshing sound. “Ehm. When was the last time you were Italy?”

You had to think. “About 3 years ago, I went and stayed with my cousin. She’s from Avellino, but she lives in Rome now.”

The kettle was steaming. Andrew had his mug and tea bag at the ready. “We played Italy a few times and I vacationed there for a bit. The countryside was beautiful and the people were so warm…” He filled his mug carefully and added a little honey. He smiled at you. “Would you like to go back to Italy?”

“I always want to go back to Italy. What part did you go to?”

“Ehm, well…we played San Remo and in Turin. We did a little blues festival in Tuscany. I spent some time in Florence and a couple of days in Milan.” He blew on his tea and fussed with the tea bag.

“Have you been to Rome?”

“Ehm…Just the airport.”

“That’s too bad. It is incredible. You would love the ancient ruins and the art. The people are fantastic. It is some of the best people-watching in the world. And you haven’t lived until you have ridden in a Roman taxi. You think New York cabbies are daredevils? Roman ones drive without rules.”

“So, let’s go.”

“Let’s go? Just like that…let’s go?”

“Ehm, yeah. Why not? When do you get more vacation time?”

“After the first of the year.”

He just smiled at you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Why don’t we take a look at flights after dinner?” He put his cup down and stepped in front of you. He took your face in his hands. “Let’s go to Rome.” He kissed you and it was full of the promise of things to come.


	2. Night One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love, food, Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you want me to handle the Italian. I put the English translation in parentheses in a couple of spots, but not all. I thought some lines were self-explanatory. 
> 
> I am happy to do whatever is easiest for you, dear reader.

Rome has beautiful weather in April. The days are warm and the nights are cool with no humidity. You were there after the Easter holidays. The pilgrims had left the city and although the streets were bustling, they weren’t crowded.

You and Andrew had taken an overnight, direct flight from New York. It was the first time that you had flown first class on an international flight and you were pretty sure you were forever ruined for coach. Even with the extra space, Andrew was still a bit crunched in his seat, but he never complained. You landed, got your bags and made it through passport control with no problems. A driver was waiting for you at the airport, holding a sign that said _Byrne_ on it. He was an older gentleman with silver hair and perfect posture. He was dressed in a gorgeous suit and Armani glasses….welcome to Rome.

\---

The two of you were in the back of the car, a black Mercedes with grey leather interior. The scenery whizzed by at an incredible pace. Romans love to drive fast. 

You leaned forward in your seat and spoke to the driver.“Scusi, Signore. È possibile guidare dal colosseo? È la prima volta del mio ragazzo a Roma.”

“Certo signorina!! Sono felice di farlo.” The driver looked in the rear mirror and smiled at the two of you.

“Grazie, mille.”

Andrew turned to you, “What did you just say?”

“I asked him to take us by the Colosseum. I told him it is your first time in Rome.”

He whispered in your ear, “Hearing you speak Italian is an incredible turn on.”

You could feel your face flush. “Well, this will be an interesting week.”

Andrew kissed you.

“Un viaggio per inammorati!! Perfetto!!” It seemed that your driver approved.

Andrew was excited for this trip. You planned it together, sitting in your bed at night, looking at different hotels and sites online. He wanted to learn as much Italian as possible. So, you helped him learn and he practiced every day with an app on his phone.

“Scusi, ragazzi! Ecco, il colosseo.”

Straight ahead was the Colosseum. It was, without doubt, the symbol of Rome. No matter how many times you saw it, it gave you a thrill. As the road curved around the side, you could see the Forum and Palantine Hill. You pointed out both to Andrew who took it all in.

“That’s outrageous!” He was smiling from ear to ear.

It was close to noon in Rome and the streets were filled with tourists and locals. You put the window down on your side so you could hear the sounds of the cars and Vespas. Bits of Italian floated in the window and it was music to your ears.

Your driver took the long way around to the hotel. He pointed out a few sites on the way including Santa Maria Maggiore and Trajan’s Column. It was a lovely introduction to the city for Andrew. Before you knew it, you had arrived at your hotel. 

Normally, you would stay with your cousin in her little apartment or in a small B&B if she was busy. This was a different type of trip. Andrew wanted to stay somewhere with a little luxury and he wanted to spoil you a little bit. He chose a beautiful boutique hotel near the Spanish Steps. Your room had a soaking tub and a private balcony and you hoped that it was as nice in person as it looked online.

The hotel was one street over from Via del Corso. The area was full of high-end shops, bars and cafes. It was smack dab in the middle of the city, perfect for walking around. The building was unassuming, but it had two great big wooden doors. The knobs and hinges were all brass that had patinaed over the years. Each door had a large knocker featuring a wolf that loomed over you.

“Looks like the She-Wolf who raised Romulus and Remus.” Andrew had read all about the ancient city, including the popular myth about its founding.

“Scusi, ragazzi!” Your driver, Marcello, had your rolling suitcases. He rang the buzzer at the door. It clicked open and he led the way down a long corridor that led to an interior courtyard. There was a beautiful fountain with café chairs and tables around it.

“Marcello?” A female voice called.

“Si, Vittoria! Signore e la Signora Byrne sono qui.” (Yes Vittoria. Mr. and Mrs. Byrne are here.)

A beautiful woman appeared and greeted you eagerly. “Bene, benvenuti a Roma! Parli italiano o inglese?” (Welcome to Rome, do you speak Italian or English?”

“Ciao, parlo italiano ma lui parla inglese. Grazie.” (Hello. I speak Italian, but he speaks English. Thank you.”)

“Wonderful. Welcome to Rome and to our hotel. We are so happy to have you here. Let’s get you checked in. Your room is ready.”

Andrew touched your arm, “I’ve got this. Go sit by the fountain and relax.”

Marcello was headed towards the elevator with your bags and Vittoria took Andrew over to the check-in desk.

Travel was exhausting. You marveled at how the band and the team managed to do it every day without collapsing or losing their minds. You sat down and took a deep breath. The air in the courtyard was cool and sound of the water was hypnotizing. There was a tiny garden area with some small trees. Little birds flitted between the branches and chirped cheerfully. The courtyard was open to the sky. It was a cerulean blue and perfectly clear.

Andrew touched your shoulder. “We are all set. Ready?” His smile was incandescent.

\---

The elevator was one of those old-fashioned ones with an iron cage and door. The actual booth was made of wood and glass. It was typical for Rome, but definitely not built for someone tall.

“Ah, Signore. My apologizes, this elevator is very old and very small.” Vittoria gestured with her hands. She had lovely silver hair pulled into a chignon and her makeup accented her sparkling blue eyes. She reminded you of your Mother.

Andrew crouched and got in. “Va bene Signora, non e un problema.” He winked at you.

Vittoria took you to your suite of rooms. It was even better than the pictures. She gave you a quick tour of the space and told you to call the desk with any questions or requests.

The minute she closed the door, you jumped into Andrews arms. “This is gorgeous! I have never stayed anywhere like this before.” You kissed him. “Thank you!”

“I don’t think I have ever stayed anywhere this nice either!”

“I am going to check out the terrace.” The room had its own private terrace. There was a small table with chairs and a view of the city rooftops. Andrew joined you, he had a bottle of prosecco and two glasses.

“Prosecco?” He put the glasses down on the table and started to open the bottle.

“Oh, how nice. I’d love some.”

He popped the bottle open and poured. After handing you a glass, he went to make a toast. “Ehm…I…” He started to get emotional. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. Andrew is such a tender-hearted person, sometimes you wish you could protect him from his feelings. “I love you. And I am so happy...so happy.”

You went to him and touched his face. “Me too, my love.” You drank your prosecco and took in the view. It was incredible.

The jet lag was starting to catch up with you both. A nap was definitely in order. It was late afternoon Rome time; you could sleep for a while and then get up for dinner. Andrew climbed into bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. You took a bath first and then slipped into the sheets next to him.

\---

You woke up a few hours later to the sounds of the city and Andrew kissing the back of your neck. 

“Hmmm. What time is it?” You asked in a sleepy voice.

“Does it matter?” He said it in an octave that told you he had exactly one thing on his mind. You rolled over on to your back and he started to kiss your chest. He slid his hand under the sheet and explored. You started to giggle.

“Ticklish?” He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“You know I am!”

He used a little more pressure.

“ _Oh_ …”

He sucked on your lower lip. His beard was longer and softer, it felt wonderful against your skin. Andrew was just wearing his boxers; his skin was flushed and hot. He worked his way down your neck, your chest and made his way to your nipple. He circled it with his tongue and then bit it with his teeth, using just enough pressure to make you moan with pleasure. He straddled you and gave your other nipple the same attention. You were completely at his mercy now and he knew it.

“So…did you …want to…go get dinner?” He asked you in between kissing your ribs and belly.

“What?” He might as well speaking Martian at this point.

He slid his body against yours and rolled his hips, he was more than ready. “I said, did you want to go to dinner?”

You looked him. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Absolutely!! Let me go get changed.” You were giggling again.

Next thing you knew his head was between your thighs, everything after that is hazy.

\----

A couple hours later you headed out for dinner. You were starving, but absolutely giddy.

You wanted to take him to the Trastevere. It is a bohemian section of the city that has a lot of artists, street performers, trattorias and bars. It was always full of students and locals and it was your favorite spot in the city.

“We need to grab a cab. It’s a little far on an empty stomach. There is a taxi stand around the corner if I remember correctly.”

Andrew was wearing a beautiful, light blue linen shirt that you gave him for the trip. He had a dark, navy blue, leather jacket over it and the colors made his eyes seem greener. His hair was down and curly (per your request) and he had his tortoise-shell glasses on.

“Honey, I don’t care where we go or how we get there, as long as it’s together.” The months leading up to this trip were particularly hectic for Andrew. He had been traveling between London, New York and Ireland to record new material. He also started work on the second season of his podcast. You were busy as well. In addition to regular job, you were volunteering with an organization that helped at-risk kids by providing art, music and drama therapies. It was rewarding work and it helped fill the time that he was gone.

The taxi, like all the cars in the city, was small. The roads were incredibly narrow in most parts and parking was at a premium. Andrew got in the back with you, his knees were up to his ears. The driver was blasting Bruce Springsteen’s _Live in NYC_.

“Buona sera.”

“Ciao signora. Dove vuoi andare?”

“Trastevere. Vicino a Piazza Trilussa per favore.”

“Va bene.” He took off like a shot and drove the back roads like his own personal autobahn. Once he got to the main roadway, there was heavy traffic. You rolled the window down to enjoy the fresh air and the sounds. A Vespa pulled up next to you. It was driven by a young woman who was having an animated conversation on her phone. Her Prada handbag was perched carefully between her feet. Andrew put his window down. The car on his side was full of teen girls who were singing Lizzo at the top of their lungs. He shook his head and laughed. The light turned green and the race was on.

Your driver had been looking in his mirror at Andrew. “Signore, scusi…ma, non sei Hozier?”

Andrew looked at you. “Ehm…si, io sono Hozier.”

“Da vero?! Fantastico!”

The driver proceeded to tell you all about seeing Andrew play at the Pistoia Blues Festival back in 2015. He was definitely a big fan. Andrew was blushing, you rubbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. When you got to your destination, the driver asked to take a quick picture. Andrew always acquiesed to such requests and you happily took the photo for the driver.

“Grazie Hozier!”

“Ciao! Ciao!!”

The piazza was full of people. There were musicians, vendors, locals and tourists. Delicious cooking smells floated out of the various windows. The bar on the corner of the square was bursting with people. Patrons spilled out onto the street with their beverages.

You looked at Andrew, he was taking in the scene. “Do you want to eat first?”

Andrew took your hand. “Yes. I don’t know about you, but I am famished.”

“Oh, me too. I know the perfect place.” There were a lot of great restaurants to eat in the neighborhood, but you had favorite place. You led the way.

When you were a child, you spent your summers in Italy visiting and staying with extended family. Your family always stayed in Rome for a few days to go shopping and because the flights were out of the Rome airport. When you were here, you always ate at this trattoria. It had been in business since the early fifties. The food was very local, very Roman as was the clientele. It has an enclosed patio in the back where you asked to be seated.

The host sat you in the corner near a small fountain. He handed you two menus in English.

You turned to the host. “Mi scusi, Signore, ma vogliamo due menu in Italiano. Per favore!”

“Ah, Signora. Mi dispiace. Uno momento, per favore.” The host took your menus and headed to the front desk.

“What’s happening? I can’t translate that fast!” Andrew was laughing, his eyes sparkled.

“He gave us menus in English, I asked for the ones in Italian.”

“Ehm…so I can practice reading?”

“Well, yes. Also, the other menu doesn’t have a lot of the local dishes on it. Too weird for English palates.” Andrew quirked his eyebrow at you. “I didn’t mean you. Are you English all of a sudden?” He smirked.

The host returned with your menus. Wine was ordered and poured and the night was under way. When the waiter came to your table, Andrew gave his order in perfect Italian.

“Babe, that was perfect.”

“I have a very good teacher.” His raised his glass to you.

“Are you enjoying Rome so far?”

“Ehm. Totally.” He reached across the table and took hold of your hand. “Of course, I am just happy to have some uninterrupted time alone with you. It has been a chaotic few months.”

“It has been very busy. I hope you take some time to really rest. You really have been burning the candle at both ends.”

Andrew leveled his gaze at you. “Ehm….and you haven’t?”

“My commute is much shorter.” The waiter came with the antipasti. You ordered a few things to try; prosciutto, stuffed zucchini flowers, suppli and fried artichokes.

Andrew was grinning. “Wow. This looks delicious.”

“The artichokes are my favorite. They’re called Carciofi alla Giudia. You really can’t get them like this outside of Rome.”

“Car-cho-fee a-la Jew-dee-ah.” Andrew repeated it slowly and phonetically. “What does it mean?”

“Artichokes in the Jewish Style.”

You both dove into the food. It was fantastic. For a primi or first course, you split a dish of homemade pasta with fresh porcini mushrooms.

“Ehm, what is this called in Italian?”

“Tagliolini con funghi porcini freschi.

“Looks outrageous.”

“Wait till you taste it!”

He made short work of the pasta. For a main course, he got the Osso Bucco and you had the lamb with potatoes. There was very little talking and a lot of eating. It was around 9:30 in the evening and the restaurant was filling up. There was a long table with a family celebrating a birthday. The couple next to you were Australian tourists (you eavesdropped) and on the other side a group of coworkers celebrating a big sale.

Your waiter brought a plate of fresh fruit that was wonderfully cold and limoncello.

“I think this is the best meal I’ve ever had.” Andrew sipped him limoncello slowly.

“You look so relaxed. I can’t remember the last time I saw you this…at peace.” You were munching on a strawberry.

“Ehm…neither can I. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but it is nice to slow down. And it’s even better to be with you with no work, no responsibilities…” He took your hand in his and rubbed it with his thumb.

“So, do you want to walk around? There are a lot of artist’s lofts here and some very interesting little shops.”

Andrew smiled at you. He leaned forward and spoke very softly. “Maybe another night. I have some other ideas of things we can do.” His eyebrow arched.

“Oh…well, let’s get the check!”

“


	3. Gladiators

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sadly, gladiator impersonators are no longer allowed around the Colosseum because of security issues. I had the pleasure of watching them on a few of my trips to the ancient city. It was a lot of fun.

For your first full day in the city, you had booked a private tour of the Colosseum for you and Andrew. Your guide was a PH.D. student at the University of Rome. He spoke perfect English with a gorgeous Italian accent and was more storyteller than historian. You got to tour the site from the very top to the underground chambers. The reconstructed elevator that was used to bring gladiators and animals to Colosseum floor was fascinating. Marco, your guide, wove a tale of poor citizens, the middleclass and royals all watching the activities with the same bloodlust. The last part of the tour brought you to the floor of the arena. There you had a gladiator’s view and tried to imagine what it was like to fight a tiger or lion.

Even though it was springtime and the temperatures were cool and comfortable, the Mediterranean sun was incredibly strong. So, you were standing in the shade of the Colosseum, cooling down. When you finished the tour, you both were hot and a little sunburnt, despite the application of SPF 70, which you had insisted on. Luckily, there was a little food truck nearby and you were able to get cups of fresh, cold fruit. Andrew had the watermelon and you had the pineapple. You were taking turns feeding each other, while watching the modern gladiators take pictures with tourists for money.

“Ehm…so they just hang out here all day in their costumes?”

“Yes.” You took a bite of watermelon from Andrews spoon.

“That’s a hard way to make a living.” He arched his brow.

There was a group of _“Gladiators”_ around the corner, they were smoking and talking on their cell phones. It made for an incongruous picture. You pointed to them with your spoon. “Especially in the heat of the summer. Can you imagine? Wearing those costumes, standing in the sun all day…hustling tourists?”

“No! I’ll keep my job. It gets hot sometimes, but so worth it. Though I suppose hustling tourists is better than fighting lions.”

“Point taken.” You fed Andrew more pineapple. “So, no gladiator job for you?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No. I guess I stay a rock star.” He said rock star with a sneer of sarcasm.

You laughed at him. “Well, there goes my big plan!” You were squinting up at him.

“What plan is that?” He moved a little so that his shadow covered you.

“My plan to run away to Italy. You can be a singing gladiator impersonator and I can work in a gelateria. We’d be poor, but happy.”

“I like the singing part. Don’t forget my espresso making skills! I could get a gig doing that as well.”

“I’m sorry. Of course, wow, you are a bit of a triple threat, aren’t you?”

Andrew was smiling at you. His hair was pulled back, but there were a few loose curls blowing in the breeze. He was wearing a white linen shirt ( a gift from you) and his classic Rayban sunglasses. He looked like a snack.

“So…what’s next on the agenda?” He took a step closer and you could smell the soap he used this morning in the shower.

“We take a taxi back to the hotel. Have a bath. Take a nap.” You raised your spoon to his mouth; he eagerly ate the pineapple. “Get up and make love. Then go to dinner.”

He suddenly turned and walked towards the street. “Taxi!!! Taxi!”


	4. The Crypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy morning in bed followed by a trip to a crypt. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Capuchin Crypt is real. I have been there and it is incredibly strange.

Sleep in…check.

Order room service…check.

Eat room service breakfast on terrace…check.

Take a long bath…check.

Get back into bed…check.

Spend morning in bed with sexy boyfriend…CHECK!

By all accounts, you were having a very productive morning. Breakfast was delicious and eating it on the private terrace only enhanced the experience. The bathroom had a large, marble-lined shower and a gorgeous marble tub. Sadly, the tub wasn’t big enough for the two of you to soak at the same time. So, you took the bath and he had the shower. Once you were clean and fresh, you got back into bed and worked on get dirty again.

The bed was enormous and incredibly plush which was surprising. Hotel mattresses in Europe were generally hard and uncomfortable. The sheets were expensive and soft and there was an abundance of pillows. Most importantly, there was a very tall, very sweet and very cuddly Irishman in the bed with you. At the moment he was lavishing his attention on your back. Kissing it, stroking up and down your spine and driving you insane.

“Ehm…you are covered in gooseflesh. Are you cold or am I doing something right?”

“Don’t be so smug…you know it’s you.”

He was laughing. “I can stop.”

“Don’t you dare!”

He continued his gentle assault, pulling the sheets down and exposing the rest of you. He slid his warm hands over the rise of your buttocks and down the back of your legs.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I think I got carried away last night…you have a bite mark on your beautiful bottom.” He kissed the spot.

“Oh, don’t worry…that was my other lover.” You giggled.

“Do I know him?” He started licking a trail down your calf.

“Yes…oh…I believe so. He is quite the musical star.”

“Really?” Now he was sucking on your other calf. “Tell me about him.”

“Um…ohhh.” He was doing his best to distract you. “Well, he is brilliant. Curious. Quick-witted. Makes incredible coffee.”

Andrew kissed his way up your leg, over your bum and up your back to your neck. He slid his hand under your hip and gently pushed so you would roll over. He settled you next to him.

“He is very talented with his…tongue.” You smiled.

He quirked his eyebrow at you. “Really?” He started to lick your one of your nipples, his hand gripping your ribs.

“Yes. But what I really love are his hands….”

“His hands?” He was very amused with you and himself.

“Um….yes, he has beautiful hands….long slim fingers….they’re soft…”

He slid his hand from your ribs down to the apex of your thighs, you spread your legs.

“But his fingertips are callused from playing guitar.” He stilled his hand; you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Ehm…is that uncomfortable for you?” He was whispering; his face hovering over yours.

You looked in his eyes and whispered. “Noooo…it feels incredible….the contrast.” You unconsciously bucked your hips.

Andrew let out a deep breath. “That’s good.” He leaned down and kissed you. His mouth was minty from his toothpaste and his hair brushed your face. “What else do you like about him?” He broke into a huge smile; his fingers stroking you in perfect rhythm.

“Besides his extremely agile hands?”

“Yes.” Andrew was winding you like a clock. He knew exactly how to do it too. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to focus.

“Um…oh….um…He has sexy forearms.”

“Forearms?” He looked at you like you were crazy. “I don’t get it.”

You were on the very edge and panting. “Baby…please…stop talking!!!”

You spent the rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon in bed, driving each other over the edge.

\---

The Capuchin Crypt is an ossuary located underneath Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini. The church is on the Via Veneto and sits opposite Barberini Square. The crypt is actually a series of small chapels decorated with the bones of over 4,000 Capuchin Friars. The bones decorate the walls, are made into chandeliers and altars, and even adorn the ceiling.

“So how far away is this…” He looked at you for the word.

“Ossuary. Ten minutes. Fifteen if we meander.” You had just climbed the Spanish Steps and were heading towards Piazza Barberini. “Babe, have you ever been to an ossuary?”

“Ehm…can’t say that I have.” Andrew was wearing one of his marinière striped shirts; his hair was tucked up into a beanie. After this morning’s activities there was no hope in taming his curls.

“Honestly? That’s odd. It seems like it would be so on-brand for you!” You were gently poking fun at his Hozier identity and he knew it. He took hold of your hand and squeezed it.

“Ehm… well, truthfully I am much more of bog person than a crypt one. All of that moss and…nature.” His smile was a mile wide and he seemed so carefree and happy. “So, have you been to this ossuary before?”

“Yes…when I was young my brothers took me there. They wanted to scare me, but I found it fascinating. Unfortunately for them, my parents were furious. They were promptly disciplined for trying to upset me and using a holy site to do it!!”

You arrived at the square, in the center is a large fountain with a statue of Triton, an ancient sea-god. You squeezed Andrew’s hand. “Amore, ecco…la Fontana del Tritone.”

He looked at you and winked. “Grazie, bella tesoro.” You walked up to the edge of the fountain. The sound of the water was delightful. Triton was blowing his conch horn, commanding the seas.

“This was designed by Bernini. And it’s the first real public fountain that was a piece of art as well.” There were small and large fountains all over the city. Some are purely function and others combine function and beauty. They are all fed with spring water from the mountains. “Do you see the bees? That is a Bernini family symbol.” Andrew nodded.

After crossing the square, you headed to the crypt. There was a group of tourists lined up for a bus tour. People were sitting at sidewalk cafes, chatting animatedly and eating. The city was filled with wonderful sounds and scents.

When you arrived at the church, you climbed the steep stairs and went into the sanctuary. By Roman standards, it was a rather subdued church. It has beautiful arches and a lovely, painted ceiling, but it lacked the florid and gaudy design of many of the churches in the city. After your quick tour, you headed downstairs to crypt entrance. There was a small fee to get in. You both chose the guided audio tour and quietly slipped into the small museum that precedes the actual crypt. There were relics and art from the Capuchin order. Your guide told you stories of the friars and the order. Capuchins lived most of their time in quiet prayer and were radically devoted to humility before God. They lived lives of austerity.

Andrew grabbed your hand. “Downstairs?” He tipped his head towards the door. You followed him down the hall to the crypt entrance. He opened the door for you and a damp and musty scent hit your nose. You made your way down the narrow stairs and into the first chapel. The ceilings were very low and Andrew had to stay stooped over. You heard him catch his breath when he saw the room. Everything was made of bones; skulls, arm bones, pelvic bones, spinal columns etc. The altar was made of bones, there was a chandelier made of skulls and shoulder blades. The ceiling had a baroque design made from smaller bones. In the middle was a very small skeleton, possible a child’s bones. It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. Every chapel had a different devotion and different design, but everything was done in bones.

You made your way down the small hallway. Everyone was very quiet either from reverence or shock. You had long forgotten your audio guide and just took in the scene. You watched Andrew make his way through the doorways. He looked like a giant climbing through a hobbit hole. He was entranced by the whole thing. At one point he looked at you, raised his eyebrow and mouthed the word, “wow.”

After the better part of an hour, you made your way to the exit. There was a little gift shop where you could buy books about the order or small religious items. Andrew returned your audio guides.

“Do you want to get a drink somewhere?” You asked him quietly.

“Definitely.” He took your hand and led you out to the street. The fresh air felt incredible after being in the crypt. The sky was obscenely blue and the colors of the city seemed brighter after such darkness.

“There is nice little spot here on the Veneto. We can get something to eat.” You started walking up the street. Andrew slipped his arm around your shoulder. You walked in silence for a while. The noise of the traffic and of the locals chatting in the street the only sounds you could hear.

Just as you arrived at the café, Andrew stopped and turned to you. “Ehm...first, the thing with the forearms and now the crypt? I had no idea you were so fecking weird!!” He smiled, shook his head and then he kissed you.

You were laughing now. “Listen, lots of women are into forearms. Forearms are sexy!!”

He looked at you like you hung the moon. “Buy me a drink and tell me all about it.”

So, you did.


	5. The Ecstasy of St. Teresa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not know Hozier. But, I do love gelato and Italian sandals.

It was one of those absolutely glorious days in Rome. The weather was springtime perfect; warm and sunny without being too hot. There was a light breeze that carried the scent of the umbrella pines you were laying under. You had your head in Andrew’s lap and you were hovering between sleep and wakefulness. He was reading from the little art book he brought with him. The two of you spent the better part of day at the Villa Borghese museum admiring Bernini statues and Caravaggio paintings. The building itself is an exquisite work of art with marble floors, frescoed walls and detailed ceilings. Now you were lounging in the park which is really just the Borghese’s back yard, all 197.7 acres of it.

“Interesting…did you know that Bernini was a child prodigy and was considered the new Michelangelo?” He lifted his hand from his spot on your stomach to turn the page.

“Um…hm, hm.” Was your drowsy reply.

He returned his hand and caressed you with his thumb.

“And did you also know that Bernini designed the square and colonnade at St. Peter’s?”

You didn’t reply at all.

“Honey, are you asleep?”

“No, but I’m trying to be.”

“I can’t believe you’re so tired so early in the day.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t kept me up all night, I would have more energy for your Art History lesson!” You opened one eye to look up at him. He was amused by your comment, but he didn’t look away from his book.

“Well, I can always leave you in peace tonight.” He was smirking in that smug way he had sometimes.

“Yes, but then who are you really punishing?” You reached over and pinched his side. He squawked and dropped his book to the ground.

“Ok, I will win this game…you know that…I always do!” He somehow pulled you completely into his lap. He had his right hand poised to tickle you right under your arm. “Is this what you want?” He was smiling broadly, his beautiful mossy green eyes hidden beneath his sunglasses. All you could think of was taking him back to the hotel and having your way with him. Unfortunately, you were extraordinarily ticklish and not in a good way.

“I surrender. I surrender! You win….What is my fine Mr. Byrne?”

He smiled victoriously. “I can’t say in public.” He kissed you. “It’s too scandalous!” He kissed you again and you wound your fingers into his hair. You made out for a while in the park, like a couple of crazy, hormonal teenagers. It was glorious.

“Gelato.”

“Hmm.” You kept kissing and then he said it again.

“Gelato?”

You pulled back from him. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” He sheepishly replied.

“God bless your metabolism Andrew.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s a good thing I know a great place near here.”

“Yeah? That’s grand.”

You stood up and he stopped you. “You’ve got pine needles in your hair.” You knelt back down and he carefully pulled them out of your curls, one by one.

“Ehm, I think I got them all.” He did a final appraisal of your head. “All set.”

You gathered your things and headed towards the entrance of the park. There were people riding bikes, kids were playing and families were sitting on blankets having picnics. Everyone was in a good mood and it was infectious. You couldn’t have been happier. You were in your favorite city with Andrew and it was just the two of you. It was so rare to have time like this with no schedule, no next stop and no team to deal with. You weren’t taking it for granted and neither was he. As if he knew what you were thinking, he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed. You smiled at him. “So, what flavor are you going to get?”

“ _Flavors_. I’m going all out.”

“Un grande cono?”

“Si, e per te?”

“Non lo so.” You were so pleased every time he used his new language skills. “You’re doing great with your Italian by the way.”

“Well…I am highly motivated by food.”

The place you were thinking of was on a quiet side street off of the Via Veneto. It’s a small café with a coffee bar, hot food and gelato. It was the perfect spot to recharge before your final stop of the afternoon.

“This is it, Lottie’s. I remember the shoe store.” You stopped to look in the window at the sandals, there were several pair you would love to have. There were gorgeous men’s shoes as well, but you were dubious they would have Andrew’s size. Outside the café, there were a few people sitting at small tables. A cacophony of sounds poured out the door, people talking, the clinking of espresso cups and someone shouting orders. When you got inside you were taken back in time. You came here with your family over the years and to say it hadn’t changed would be an understatement.

You turned to Andrew. “I’m going to have an espresso. Do you want one too?”

He took his sunglasses off and put them the pocket of his shirt. “Ehm…yeah. I might as well keep up with you.”

You queued up at the counter next to two gentleman discussing the latest soccer game. The barista greeted you and Andrew ordered for the two of you. He watched with great interest as the man prepared the coffee grounds and pulled the shots.

You leaned into Andrew’s side. “Learning any new techniques?”

He whispered. “Not really. I guess the YouTube tutorial I watched was better than I thought.”

The barista served you your coffee and left the slip for the cashier. Andrew put a spoonful of sugar into his cup and stirred. He watched as you drank your espresso and arched one of his perfect brows. “So, do I have any competition? In the espresso department?”

You glanced at the man behind the counter and then at Andrew and shook your head. “No, of course not.”

“That’s the craic! Although, to be fair, this is some class stuff.”

“It is and he isn’t bad to look at.” You couldn’t help but tease Andrew and honestly, the baristas in Italy are very attractive.

“Fair’s fair. He is striking.” Andrew winked at you.

“Yes, but can he sing?” You rested your hand on his hip. “Or play guitar like you?”

Andrew paused and took a moment to appraise the man. “Probably!” He was so relaxed and jovial; his smile was electric. It made you want to stay in Rome forever.

You laughed with him. “So, gelato?”

“Yes.”

You thanked the barista and made your way to the gelato case. There was a tiny, older woman behind the counter. She moved extremely quickly and efficiently filling cones and cups, all the time shouting orders to boy at the register.

“Ciao, amici”

“Buona sera. Vorrei un gelato in coppetta piccola.”

“Quanti giusti?”

“Due, per favore. Nocciola e straciatella.”

She deftly scooped your gelato into a cup and handed it to you. Then she turned to Andrew.

“Che bel gigante con capelli così belli!” The woman looked at you. Andrew didn’t quite understand.

“She says you’re a handsome giant with beautiful hair.”

“Oh. Ehm, grazie.” Andrew was now the same color as the strawberry gelato.

You spoke to the woman. “Ah signorna! Da vero! Ma la sua voce che canta è ancora più carina. Come un angelo.”

“Si, si. Da vero? Che meraviglia per te.”

Andrew gave you a strained look. “What are you saying? I can’t keep up.”

If he could have, Andrew would have crawled underneath the counter to escape this whole conversation. You felt a little bad about it, but not a lot.

“I’ll tell you later. Do you want me to order for you?”

“Yes, please.”

You ordered a large cone with chocolate, fior di latte and coffee. He paid for the two of you and you left the cafe quickly.

“Should we look at the shoes again?” You gestured towards the store with your spoon.

“What were you saying in there?” He stopped on the sidewalk and tipped his head.

“She called you a handsome giant with beautiful hair. Then I said that’s true, but that your singing is even more beautiful. Like an angel. Then she said, how marvelous for me…Your gelato is melting.”

He took a few licks of his cone and started walking ahead.

“Are you mad?”

He stopped and turned around. “Of course not, just a little embarrassed.”

You caught up to him. “Sorry. I was trying to make up for checking out the barista.”

He stroked your face. “Couldn’t be helped…he was a handsome lad. Now, are we buying those sandals you were looking at earlier?”

“Maybe.”

\---

An hour later, you left the store with sandals for you and leather shoes for Andrew.

“I still think you should have gotten two pairs.” Andrew was looking in the bag as you walked down the Veneto. “We could go back.”

You linked arms with him. “No, thank you though. I’m afraid my platform sandals days are quite limited in Ireland.”

“True…but…what if we were to spend a little more time here?”

“Really?”

He smiled.

“Well, then more sandals would be needed. Hey, there is one more thing I want you to see. It’s not far from here.”

“Lead the way.”

You walked down the curving street. Vespas and taxis sped by and people were out in the sidewalk cafe’s. The smell of garlic and cigarette smoke mingled and somehow, because it was Rome, it smelled good.

“Take a left here, at the Embassy.”

You went down a side street that went behind the American embassy. It was lined with orange trees that were laden with fruit.

“Ehm…are these orange trees?”

“Yes, Arance Amare…bitter oranges. They are delicious in marmelatta.” The scent of citrus filled the air. Andrew marvelled at the trees in the middle of the city. He looked like a child given a wonderful surprise.

“Can we take one?”

“Oh, yes, but they are awful for eating fresh.”

“Ah..ok. Best leave it.”

“Yes. We are here anyway.” You came to a busy intersection, the small church was across the street. “We need to go there.” You pointed. “After the light.” When the pedestrian light came on, you quickly crossed the street. The church itself is tall, but plain with a pale stone exterior and no ornamentation. You climbed the stairs and went inside.

“What is this place?” Andrew took his sunglasses off. His eyes were adjusting to interior light. “Oh, wow.”

You spoke quietly. “This is Santa Maria della Vittoria.” The church is a perfect example of Baroque art and architecture. Every square inch is decorated with sculpture, paint or gild. There are several different colors of marble and each chapel features a different saint or scene.

“The Cornaro chapel is down front on the left. It has Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. One of his late works.”

Andrew nodded. You reflexively crossed yourself with holy water from the font and then you made your way to the chapel. There were only a few people in the church, some tourists taking pictures and an older woman praying in the front pew. You had the small chapel to yourself.

“It’s stunning.” He wrapped an arm around you. 

“I’m always amazed at how her robes look so fluid and soft. And her expression is…well.” There wasn’t much you could say.

“It’s so theatrical. So erotic.” Andrew tipped his head and took it all in.

The two of you stood for a while admiring the piece. Then you took a seat in the pews so that you could look at the ceiling artwork. Once your necks were properly wrecked, you left. Outside on the stairs, you were assaulted by the noise of the city.

“Thank you. For bringing me here. Not just the church, but to Italy. It’s a remarkable place and I love sharing it with you.” He kissed you. “Aperitivo?”

“Andrew, we just ate gelato. You’re already thinking about the next meal?”

He smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Come on. I know where to go.”

“That’s why I always follow you.”


End file.
